A 20th Review

From the moment I saw the preview for this next flick, I knew who I had to ask to buddy-blog it.  Ken is a family friend who has known me since birth, and he's a psycho-therapist, which always means for awesome dinner conversation, at least on my end, as I inundate him with questions:  "Okay, what really makes someone a psychopath?  And are psychopaths the serial killers or are those sociopaths?  Can you be a psychopath AND a sociopath?  What's transference again?"  It goes on.  He's great. 

Enjoy our takes on David Cronenberg's latest offering...

(Oh yes, and as per the heading, this is also the 20th film reviewed on this blog, which launched last February 6th.)

Ken's Review of A Dangerous Method

by Ken Ludlow

Early on during my first psychotherapy, which was psychodynamic but neither Freudian nor Jungian in the strict sense of those terms, I asked my seasoned therapist what the main difference was between undergoing a Freudian and a Jungian analysis. After a brief pause he replied, “Well, if a guy were to undergo a successful Freudian analysis he would probably still feel a bit nuts but he’d actually be doing quite well. If he were to complete a Jungian analysis he’d think he was one of the sanest men on the planet but he’d still be really nuts.”

Caitlin's Review of A Dangerous Method

A Sure-Fire Plan
by Caitlin Murphy

From the opening images of A Dangerous Method – the usually sedate Keira Knightley thrashing against the confines of a horse-drawn carriage, destined for an asylum – we are thrown into a world preoccupied with the tension between chaos and control; a world blinking its eyes open to the big, new ideas of psychoanalysis.  Directed by David Cronenberg, a man typically drawn to the dark, deep and disturbed, the film, though eminently watchable, is quite a lot subtler and safer than its title or director’s name might imply.

Walk the Talk

What fun to review a silent film with a very vocal guy, my old theatre crony, Jason Rip.  I remember Jason was one of the first people that I ever noticed creating their own art.  It was a pretty huge discovery.   He still has a letter I wrote to prove I was awed. 
Enjoy our very different takes on The Artist...

Rip's Review of The Artist

The Silence Of The Hams
a review by Jason Rip

I cannot jump on The Artist bandwagon but perhaps I can respectfully watch it roll by from the sidewalk.

This French billet-doux  to early Hollywood is a real curiousity: it is a mostly silent, black-and-white film featuring a blend of French and Hollywood actors ( in mostly thankless roles, I might add ) and seems to be a reversal of the normal Tinsel-Town dynamic in the sense that critics adore it whereas the general public are either not attending ( there were about ten people in the Cineplex Odeon theatre when I saw it on its opening night ) or actually demanding their money back ( “What the hell!  Nobody’s talking in this movie!” )  The cynical side of me feels that, gorgeous technique aside, this is all an attempt to get the thickly accented and perpetually smiling star Jean Dujardin ( France’s answer to George Clooney ) over in America.  Why he is up for so many acting awards, besides his ability to tap dance and interact with Uggie, his canine co-star, is beyond me.  He can play a cheesy smiley guy, so what?  He only delivered two words in the entire film ( “With pleasure” ) which came out as French as brie.  As for the lead actress, while I acknowledge a certain Betty Boop charm and the ability to step lightly, well, she’s the director’s wife.

Caitlin's Review of The Artist

“A Boy Falling out of the Sky”
a review by Caitlin Murphy

In Neil Postman’s brilliant book Technopoly, he argues that throughout history societies have had very different kinds of relationships to their technologies.  To conveniently reduce it all:  once upon a time we just used our tools, and at some point they started using us.  Transforming us.  Defining us.  America, Postman offers, after the introduction of television, was not simply America plus television; it was a wholly different America.  Similarly, we are not living in a world that offers the capability of tweeting, we are living in a tweeting world.  None of this is really news, of course, but that’s perhaps exactly why it bears repeating.  The Artist, written and directed by Michael Hazanavicius, elegantly, compellingly, heart-breakingly does just that.